


A Little Unsteady

by amyponders



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Brainwashing, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Has Issues, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Canon Divergence - Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Canon Rewrite, Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Comfort, Comfort/Angst, Cuddling & Snuggling, Depression, Dialogue Light, During Canon, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotionally Repressed, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, How Do I Tag, Hurt, Hurt Bucky Barnes, Hurt/Comfort, Hydra (Marvel), Hydra Bucky Barnes, I Made Myself Cry, I'm Bad At Tagging, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, Implied/Referenced Torture, Mild Language, Not Canon Compliant, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Relationships, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Prostitution, Psychological Trauma, Sad, Sleepy Cuddles, Song: Unsteady (X Ambassadors), Suicidal Thoughts, The Author Regrets Everything, Trauma, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2020-06-09 20:50:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19483777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amyponders/pseuds/amyponders
Summary: The Winter Soldier looks for a girl that can give him some emotional comfort inside of an unlikely place.





	A Little Unsteady

**Author's Note:**

> You could say this was inspired by that episode in Game of Thrones where an Unsullied soldier cuddles with a prostitute. It's been a while since I saw that episode so it wasn't a direct connection, but it was lurking around in the back of my brain I guess, until I found a character to pair it with. I like the idea of a confused and emotionally wrecked Winter Soldier that looks for love and warmth in one the few places that are available to him. I'll really just use any excuse to give him some semblance of happiness.

The look of apprehension on the women’s faces when he entered the lowly lit room — well, he couldn't exactly say it was one he didn’t recognize. He was used to being a source of unbridled terror, the sort that ended up plastered on his target’s faces when they saw him coming like an avenging angel of death —their unwelcomed reckoning— with his rifle doubling as a shining sword ready to swing its sentence. 

Pure fear wasn’t exactly what he was aiming for tonight, but still, he couldn’t help the reaction he caused. Least of all when he’d come down to this hidden corner of this cold foul city with his full uniform still on; guns and knives held in place by holsters and a black mask that obscured half of his face. Not that many people would dare tell on him, but he could never be too careful. What little he managed to do without someone breathing down his neck was best kept private. 

The door closed behind him with a loud click, followed by a terse silence on top of the slow-playing music in the background. He scanned the girls one by one, concentrating on the ones that weren’t obviously working some greasy mobster or weaselly politician already. That was the benefit of operating in the shadows, of shaking hands with evil every night and lurking in the underbelly of the cities where all sorts of depravities were permissible: they were all in the same boat together and they knew it. So, they’d learned early on it was better to keep their mouths shut. 

There were girls of all shapes and sizes and in various degrees of nudity sitting or parading all around the room. But there was one in particular that caught his attention. She was sitting in a corner table next to an open curtain that let in the white light from a nearby lamppost. From the outside it was impossible to see inside, as he’d proved a couple of nights before when he first stumbled upon this establishment. He’d entered through a long dilapidated hallway and figured out pretty quickly what sort of place it was, but he hadn’t had the courage to stay and ask for what he really wanted. 

_Some other night,_ he’d thought, and well, here he was again. 

The girl was an understated beauty with barely any makeup on her dark brown eyes; delicate features over exquisite olive skin. A cigarette was hanging from her full lips and she looked at him with a blank expression. If he didn’t know better, he would say it was almost defiant. If she was afraid, she was good at hiding it. And it just so happened that tonight, he needed someone like that. 

He pointed at her with a motion of his head. She tossed her brown wavy hair inattentively and stood up, not before putting out her cigarette on the wooden surface of the table. All eyes in the room were on her and the tension wasn’t exactly decreasing as he’d expected it would once they saw he was there as a client and not as a potential threat. 

A young girl with blonde curls made an effort to move towards the girl he’d picked, but a much older woman, the one who ran the establishment, he guessed, stopped her. The older woman whispered something pressingly in her ear and then let go of her arm. He walked toward the brown-haired girl who passed through a thin curtain and into an even darker hallway.

“Take me. I’ll go with you!” The blonde girl was suddenly behind him speaking in an urgent tone. She touched his arm and made him turn around.

He looked at the brunette girl impassively. 

“It’s alright, _dorogoy_.” She spoke in a reassuring tone and took the worried girl’s hands to squeeze them lightly before sending her away. “Follow me.” She spoke directly at him then made her way through the unnaturally lit hallway. 

The walls gave off a bizarre red color that bled into all of their surroundings. Her skin looked like a glistening ruby underneath the glow of the neon lights. There was cigarette smoke and a heavy incense-like smell perfuming the air and intoxicating the senses. 

They passed many doors until they reached the door she was looking for at the end of the narrow corridor. On the opposite side of the hallway, there was another wall-long window made of the same one-way see-through material than the one in the main room. Across the glass pane, he could see the feet of the few strangers that strutted along the rainy sidewalk at this late hour. Some of the doors, the ones currently in use, he ventured, had long-faced men in dark clothes carrying guns in their waist. It was the first time he’d ever seen this level of —dare he say ‘care’?— for working girls. 

She put a key inside the door’s keyhole and the man posted in front of it swung it open with his left arm from where he was standing. He didn’t look at either of them directly but rather fixed his gaze at the glass pane in front of him. She went in first and he meant to follow. But the man at the entrance stopped him with a hand to his chest. It made a solid thumping sound he didn’t like at all. Under any other circumstance, that security guy would have two broken ribs and a collapsed lung by now. But he hadn't come in here looking for trouble.

“Weapons off.” He sentenced, still looking straight ahead.

He clenched his jaw and glared at the guard while begrudgingly undoing some of his leather straps and then steadily emptying his chest pockets of ammunition. He took out several Gerber daggers and small knives that were usually scattered around his body. His two gun holsters fell to the ground in successive thumps and so did his favorite sub-machine gun when he unclasped his back strap. 

Finally, he looked at the girl, who nodded her head and closed the door on their spacious room after he’d stepped in. She stayed leaning against it with her hands trapped in between the wooden slab and her back for a few seconds, as if gathering her strength, before approaching him like a skilled snake enchantress. These girls truly had an ability to fake the most convincing interest and put on quite the show.

“Stop.” He uttered and upon hearing his muffled voice he remembered he better take off his mask if he wanted her to understand anything he was about to say. He unlatched it on the back of his head and threw it aside with a loud clunk. She stopped dead in her tracks and examined his face closely.

“Are you going to order _off the menu_?” She raised an eyebrow knowingly.

“I have something… _different_ in mind, yes. How’d you guess?” He furrowed his brow almost imperceptibly.

“You just look the part.” The tone of her strained response made it sound almost as if she was bracing herself for whatever odd request he was about to ask. “What is it you fancy, soldier? I should probably warn you that anything hardcore is not my specialty and-”

“No.” 

She squinted her dark brown eyes at him.

“None of that.”

For a split second he could see the relief hidden behind her eyes before she produced a small smile for him. He was very adept at reading small cues like that. 

She approached him cautiously and pressed her torso against him before slithering down to the floor and sinking to her knees. From her new position she spoke in a calm silky voice: “Well… then I guess there’s no need for this.” She stuck her hand inside his right boot and took out a hidden knife and he let her. She tossed it in the direction of his mask. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell. But next time, weapons really are strictly forbidden inside the rooms. We can provide anything you might need for any _scenario_.”

He stared down at her. She was crouching still. 

“Do you have a name?”

He stayed silent.

“Not the speaking type, are you? Well, my sweet, I need to call you something.”

“I don’t have a name.” His answer left very little room for debate. At least in this place he could use that as a valid response that would raise no further questions. Anonymity was as much a currency as money, drugs and weaponry.

“Pet names, then? I can use those with you, right?” She checked. 

He clenched his jaw and nodded laconic.

“Alright, darling. As for you, _you_ can call me Adria. Should I… stay on my knees?” She let out in a suggestive breath. 

He had to admit there was something very fetching about her. Maybe it was her youth, her liveliness, or the courage she had to stay on this job. Perhaps it was her eagerness to make him happy, or her ability to pretend that she actually liked him. Either way, she awakened something inside him and even standing there it hurt something awful. 

Or maybe it was delight he was experiencing. He wasn’t exactly used to encountering beauty in his world, so he couldn’t tell for sure. The world around him usually passed in flashes of grey and red and black. Pleasant sensations: kisses, caresses, exploding colors, chiming laughter, fine aromas, delicate flowers and soft fabrics were all foreign territory to him. 

The line between what was good and what was terrible had been blurred for so long that the only good reason he could think of to be attempting this was that he needed to learn how to tell the difference. He needed to know how to cope with these strange sensations, break through the discomfort of experiencing goodness and vulnerability again. But above all, he needed a respite. Just one single fucking moment of peace.

“How much for the whole night?”

“The whole night?” Adria repeated. “Depends on what we’ll be doing…”

“Nothing. We’ll be doing… nothing.” He spat out defeated and walked up to the king-sized bed with purple silk sheets and black cushions to sink down on its soft surface.

He started undoing the straps on the front of his uniform with one hand and looked dismally to the side while he made slow progress. Adria got up from her knees and stopped in front of him. She put her small hand on top of his and searched his eyes for permission. When she found no resistance, she helped him undo his vest. When they were done, he reached for his gloves and finally for the hem of his black undershirt. He stayed in silence with his top off, waiting for her expected reaction at his unnatural arm, but there was none. 

Instead, she sat down next to him and asked: “What is it that you want exactly, honey?”

Unable to voice his request, he let his head fall down on his hands and he closed his eyes. He felt so worn out. After a minute, he opened them again and looked at her wordlessly, hoping she would understand already.

“Right. Um, what do you say we just… get comfortable and lay back, baby?” She probed gently. Now that she’d finally understood there would be nothing sexual about their encounter, she was starting to sound nervous. Or maybe this was her true demeanor, when she wasn’t pretending.

He slid off his shoes and threw himself back on the bed, fixing his gaze on the roof. “I feel… filthy.” He said in a gravelly voice.

Adria eyed him and bit her bottom lip insecurely, before opening her mouth to suggest they took a bath together. “There’s a bathroom right there. We could… you know…” She traced off.

He sat up sluggishly and nodded. Physical dirt and uncleanliness wasn’t all he meant, but surely a bath would be a good start to get him feeling like a human again. Adria stood up first and took her shoes off before leading him to the other door. She opened the faucet and put a cork on the bottom of the tub, then poured a fragrant blue gel from a bottle. She grabbed the corner of her loose white dress and dragged it over her head but he stopped her from going any further.

“Leave your clothes on… Please.”

“This has gotta be a first for me.” She chuckled and slid the dress back on quietly. She stepped away from the bathtub and faced the mirror on top of the sink. Through it, she looked as he undid the first button of his pants.

He heard her speak over her shoulder: “I feel like I should be helping you.”

“Come.” He motioned with his head softly.

“Thank you. At least, I’ll feel like I worked for the money.” She smiled and put a hand on his pants to find his belt. 

In a few quick motions it was laying on top of the expensive carpet. Then her hands undid his zipper before his own hands took over and did the rest. He slid his trousers down, followed by his underwear. 

“Well, go on. Get in, then.” 

He sat inside the jacuzzi-style bathtub and Adria sat down near the edge too and dipped her toes in the water as it kept filling the space. She smiled to herself, like a little girl having fun at a pond and he observed the lines around her eyes crinkling adorably. He found the water was invitingly warm and aromatic and not at all repelling. He couldn’t remember the last time he hadn’t showered in a hurry, or worse, been forcefully hosed down inside a freezing cell, which was what he usually got, more often than not. 

Adria withdrew her feet from the water swiftly, then pulled her knees up to her chest and crossed her legs at ankle-level when she saw him looking up at her. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

The water was still rising. It was coming up to his waist, almost. 

“So, honey… Are you sure you don’t need _anything_? You look like you could use something to ease all that dreadful tension.” She offered in a small voice as she took in the sight of him naked.

“I’m good.” Although the thought of her hands stroking him intimately seemed, in theory, highly appealing, he wasn’t even sure he’d be able to muster the strength and the desire for something as simple as that. His head just wasn’t in the right place and the things that needed the most attention right now weren’t exactly his sexual desires.

“Can I touch you, at least? Loosen up your muscles a little? You look awfully rigid.”

He bowed his head and watched from the corner of his eye as she soaked her hands on the water before moving to sit directly behind him. Her legs were inside the water again and he used them to lean his back against them. He felt her pouring cold liquid soap on his skin and soon after, she rested her slender hands against his shoulder blades tentatively, before sliding them across smoothly. 

Her fingers kneaded his muscles with precision, she kept rubbing and wringing and paying attention to every square inch of skin until —little by little— she pounded all his back muscles into submission. When she finished, he realized that his head was resting forward against his bent knees and he hadn’t noticed neither that nor the sounds he’d been making.

“There. Much better.”

“Your hands are… fuck.” He didn’t know how to complete his sentence.

Adria chuckled: “Not the first time I’ve heard that. Lay your head back, sweetie, and close your eyes, let me take care of you.” She truly had a gift for pleasing because that last sentence had the exact words he’d come in looking for.

Adria stretched her hand until she reached a scrubbing towel next to all the bottles of shampoo, shower gels and sponges that were lined across the bathtub. But she didn’t scrub him red; she was incredibly gentle and slow. She brushed his hair with her fingertips and washed it carefully and unhurriedly. Here in the safety of this room, it was hard to keep his defenses up. 

If Adria suddenly decided to pick up the knife she’d thrown aside and cut his throat, he’d put up no resistance at all. It was a tough task to even _imagine_ himself fighting back, let alone actually doing it. He was so exhausted, so emotionally drained and in so much agonizing pain that at this point in life, death seemed easier. Death or her arms; either way, he only wanted to feel peace, for the fight to leave him and his head to have a warm place —like her soft lap— to lay down.

Adria moved to exit the tub when she finished. “I’m going to put on some dry clothes. Come to bed when you’re done.” 

He opened his eyes begrudgingly and exhaled. While he dried himself he took a look at Adria through the partially open door who was changing her soaked dress for a new one distractedly. She sat on the edge of the bed and brought her feet up, then started biting her nails on a reflex.

“Are you always this… anxious?” He asked as he exited the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist in lack of clean clothes.

“Only when I’m off-script.” She smiled sincerely. “Don’t tell my boss. She’d get so pissed. She’s always going on about how I could be better.”

“I don’t agree.” 

She lowered her gaze one gesture away from shy and thanked him. “Here. Try these. Don’t worry. They’re clean.” Adria threw a pair of grey underwear his way and fixed her eyes on the mattress while he put them on for some reason. “So... what now?”

He stood in front of her and put a hand on her neck for a brief moment. The veins pulsating under her skin radiated heat and it felt good to touch her there. To be this sheltered, calm and experiencing some semblance of happiness felt wrong, like going against his own instincts. But what were his instincts and what were unnatural behaviors drilled into his skull? It was getting harder every day to be able to tell the difference. 

He grabbed her hands next and directed them towards either side of his face and said in a still voice: “Keep doing what you did in there.” He motioned towards the bathroom with his head and Adria nodded. “And turn off those damn lights.” The white light bulbs weren’t even that bright, but they still reminded him of the lights on an operating table. And he’d seen enough of those.

“Sure.” Adria killed the lights with a remote control and moved to sit under the sheets before raising them and inviting him in. 

He laid down in between her legs and rested his head on her thigh and sighed almost imperceptibly. She stroked his temples sweetly for a while, then grabbed a few locks of his hair to caress in between her slender fingers. At some point, she even pressed a silent kiss against his forehead. Every so often, she changed the pace of her touch or switched her hands from place to place.

She scratched his chest very tenderly in an up-and-down motion for a few minutes. Every time her nails dug against his flesh ever so lightly, he could feel a small rusted part of him being chipped away. Her hands worked miracles and opened wide windows for the air to enter and clean his lungs. 

Or maybe, just maybe, he was so touch-starved that a complete stranger’s hands were able to give him the strength he lacked, in order to gain the insight he needed. Either way, he was starting to question if this was what normal people did with their time; sit back and hold each other close. Those who weren’t burdened with dispatching targets, destabilizing governments or cleaning up messes, of course.

Something inside of him, what he thought might be the remnants of a heart, wished desperately for a life where he got to have more of this and less of the former. It was a dangerous ground to tread on, with all these newfound desires and wishes, but the sole act of being here and sneaking around his chain of command for a taste of freedom was already a defying act on his own. 

And he didn’t plan on stopping until he found a way to figure out what was happening around him and why. He had a gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach that there were hidden layers underneath the mechanical orders they gave him. There had to be more to his existence than that. He knew that a soldier who started to question more and obey less, wasn’t much fit for battle. And he also knew what happened to men like that. 

Which was precisely why he had to be watchful and avoid falling prey to their heavy machinery and their long cattle prods. He had to execute every mission perfectly and not raise any suspicions. His thoughts drifted off, eventually; managing to lock them away for a while was no small accomplishment. But it was getting harder to keep his eyes open, so he started thinking of something to say, but Adria beat him to it.

“Can you feel this?” She traced her fingers on top of the metal.

“No.”

“Who would do something like this to someone?” Adria wondered aloud.

“How do you know-?”

“-that it wasn’t your own idea to have a high tech weapon doubling as an arm?” She chuckled low. “If it was, you wouldn’t be here, love. Men like you always seem to find their way to us.”

“Men... like me?”

“The broken kind. The ones still carrying their dead front and center in their eyes.” Adria swallowed after speaking but continued, nonetheless. 

“Those that would like to run away from their demons, but instead... what they get is us. We’re the next best thing.” She passed her hand gently along his shoulder socket, where the man ended and the machine began. 

“And whatever they're running from… is hardly ever pretty. I know I’m assuming and forgive me for speaking too much, but something really bad had to have happened to you for you to lose an arm and have it replaced with _this_.” She paused briefly.

“I’m new to this job, compared to some other girls here. I haven’t seen nearly as much shit as them. But I’ve seen enough... and this isn’t some cheap prosthetic arm. I know now all the things money can buy and you were fixed by some powerful people with big targets in mind... Or am I wrong?”

He stayed silent, not sure if answering would be a smart choice.

“Don’t worry. You don’t need to speak. I could tell since you entered the room tonight.”

“What could you tell?” He inquired in a hoarse tone.

“That there’s something big weighing you down. Then back there—” She tilted her head to the bath. “—and now with this...” Her hands traced circles on his chest. “I know all you want is… peace. You crave it.”

She leaned forward and touched her lips against his cheek, then she kissed the tip of his nose. “And maybe I can help, ease your suffering a little... Anytime _._ ” She added the last word in a rather suggestive tone.

“Ever thought of changing professions?” He asked with all the levity he could muster, which admittedly wasn’t much.

“I don’t think being a shrink pays nearly as good as this.” Adria smiled. “But thank you. And I mean it. Anytime, any... _thing_ I can do to help.”

He exhaled and sat up shortly after that. She leaned onto his back and put an arm over his shoulder to stroke his chest slowly. Her sweet breath brushed his ear and raised all the hairs on his arm. 

Adria kissed the crook of his neck enticingly and finally made him say: “No, not… tonight.” He removed her arm from his chest, he better leave before his resolve threatened to dissolve. 

“Understood.” Adria said quietly and obediently.

“I have to leave.” He stood up and searched for his clothes spread all around the room.

“Now? I thought you wanted to stay all night.” Adria’s voice sounded almost disappointed. It’s true he’d intended to risk it and stay before, but his instincts were telling him now it was an unnecessary gamble. He’d had enough heaven for one night. 

He cleared his throat before speaking in an evenly paced tone. “I’ll pay your boss for the whole night. Take the night off. If you want.” 

He put his pants on first, then his shirt and vest and left his shoes for last. Adria followed him with her gaze as he walked from one place to another. Finally, he knelt to pick up the mask and the knife but she was in front of him in no time, putting the knife inside of his boot again and then standing up to fix one of the straps in his chest that he hadn’t attached properly.

“Don’t.”

He looked her in the eye quizzically. 

“You don’t have to pay me a dime. I can make the money back. Fridays are always… _busy_.” 

He squinted his eyes gradually but nodded. He had no idea why she wouldn’t accept a fair payment, but it made him feel less guilty, so he let it go. It’s not as if he was above this type of establishment and the sort of things it sold. He’d done it before, especially after a particularly bloody mission. The sweet abyss of a woman’s sex had been all the fragile distance between his head and a bullet for more nights than he cared to recall. And he'd be lying if he said it didn’t make him feel wrong, but the choice was less of a choice when the alternative was to spend his nights alone and in terrorizing pain.

“But you have to promise me something.” She kept patting his vest and adjusting small things that really didn’t need anymore fixing.

He bowed his head. 

“Say you’ll come back.”

There was a long pause before he answered. “I will.” He intended to anyway, long before she’d asked him.

Adria placed her hands on her hips and watched as he turned around. He started moving the mask up to his face but she stopped him.

“Hang on.” She faced him and stood on her tippy toes on top of his boots, since he towered over her by almost a whole foot. And then she kissed his mouth. It was a quick peck on the lips, but one filled with warmth and aching desire, nonetheless. He could feel it, as well as he could tell that to her it registered more as the sealing of a deal than an actual kiss. “Now you can go.”

She was igniting his desire and it took a significant amount of effort to not grab her by her thighs and slam her against the door while their tongues danced intertwined and his hands roamed freely over her beautiful body. The transmitter on his pocket started beeping and as sure as he was that it wouldn’t take long to satisfy her and himself, he needed to make haste out of the place, before they sent their hound dogs after his trail.

But a few days later when he came back and she found him sitting on a sofa with two new girls descending on him like vultures, she warned: “Girls… Hands off. This one’s mine.”

And he smiled.


End file.
